After some initial run around that got taken care of by noon yesterday, I got the estimate to fix my Prius.

So on Black Friday I bought myself a Prius. It was silver. Now it's denty. I hit a deer. Bumper no long bumps, hood no longer covers engine, radiator bleeding some weird red liquid. My neck and back hurt. No airbags deployed. Geico needs me to get a police report and I don't know who to contact for the Florida Highway Patrol. Not happy.

For animal lovers: The deer lived, but I hope it gets eaten by a hungry rabbit.

M I A But not dead yet.

I do apologise to those few readers who may have been waiting for another chapter of my last story "After The Ball". I have just not been able to come up with anything which satisfies me or seems to be a valid continuation and so I have retitled the previous post "Just For The Ball?" with very minor changes to make it a stand-alone. If anyone thinks that they can continue the tale please feel free to do so. Just run it past me before posting. Sorry,

Joanne

I find myself wondering why I feel so fragile. Is it that in taking of the male mask I am more vulnerable than I have ever been? Is it that I am now on hormones that equal what a teenage girl deals with? Is it that trying to deal with both my gender issues and my abuse I dont have a lot of emotional strength left for anything else?

I don't know, but the truth remains - I am more sensitive, more fragile now.

So be extra careful in handing me, okay?

Well, things didn't go terribly well at work last night. I ended up actually sobbing from pain as my shoulder, my privates, my face, and my foot competed to see which one was gonna hurt the worst.

As I fly towards my dotage at the speed of light, I seem to have gathered another anniversary of my emergence on this planet. All it seems to bring these days is another ache or pain somewhere new which seems an awful price to pay for a few birthday cards. Such is life (or my one appears to be).

Then again, I'm living the dream and have been for a very long time, so perhaps I shouldn't complain.

What's a number? It's a useful construct...

Like - how many weeks are there in a year? Fifty-two (52).

Don't tell Felix this, but I am buying him a cd player for his car (I am going to install it myself on Christmas morning when I come back from work).

Well, Jaci is gonna laugh at this one. Writing my autobiography has reminded me of a very strange incident. I was still in grade six, and I was on my way home from school when I saw some of my usual tormentors, but this time they had friends. Friends on bikes. Friends with knives, chains, and baseball bats.

I ran for my life, and somehow managed to get to my door ahead of them. I called the police, and decided I would do something rather stupid - I opened my door and told them the police were on their way.

After I read Katie's latest blog, I wondered if I should apologize for my writing too. I seem to have the opposite problem than her - I cant make my stories long enough. Someone on fictionmania described my last story "Case file" as "more of an elevator pitch of a story than the full story".'

I have what I think are wonderful ideas in my head, but when I write them they end up being postcards instead of major motion pictures ...

So my apologies to all.

Well, yesterday was an adventure, all right. First, we were later getting going than I would have liked, then a train kept us waiting for 10 minutes, and then I lost track of mom, so by the time we got there we were both seriously stressed. But the actual event was nice, and one lady complimented me on my pigtails. Other than my relatives using the male name for me, it was a decent night.

So, tonight I went to TDOR. I was surprised that the attendance was around 200 people, about 2/3 MtF folk. FtM folk were there along with some Lesbians but not many gay men according to my GADAR.

Well, I wanted to talk about some positives about being trans, but last night I ended up fighting nightmares of rape basically the whole night. Probably triggered by my trying to write my autobiography, stupid me.

I will survive, but this isnt the way I wanted to start my day...

Ah, well.

Question for you all. If you were a pre-op male to female trans person, would you be comfortable using a woman's locker room? For example, before and after a gym class? I know my answer, but what do you guys and gals say?

Well, I had my daughter last night, and it got me thinking about being a parent.

Well, last night I had one of those occurrences that make me wish I understood how people interact with each other, and I'm hoping you guys will help me.

To make this fun, lets make it a quiz:

WARNING: WHAT IS TO FOLLOW IS A FRANK DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE. PLEASE BE CAREFUL READING ...

I'm sure most of you have noticed I have a new signature. It was a gift from Kylie, and I hope you guys enjoy it.

Unfortunately, going on my nightly experiences, that probably won't help much... but I'm going to take it easy this week-end. I've spent three days visiting hospitals last week and another rebuilding the house network. Phew!

Each time I go to a hospital it basically uses up a day. If I go to the local hospital for a blood test, it is a mile walk and then a bus ride each way; I can get other things done but you can't get a full run at anything. Going to the Renal clinic is an hour's train ride and a mile walk each end so basically we make it a day out and roam the shops, eat out, etc.

In January of this Year I stepped on the scale at the VA hospital in Philadelphia my weight came out as the last four digits as my SSN but with a period after the first three numbers such as as 123.4.
I decided I needed professional help and got it. Now ten months later I weigh 80 pounds less

So trying to cut myself off from my family did not work. just after I got myself my own phone plan my own life. everything was going great. my car blew a head Gasket.

If I needed a reminder that as bad as I think things are getting, in actual fact they could be a lot worse, I got it last night at work.

Oct. 30 I got really early (5AM) and braved rush hour traffic in Dallas to get something I had been working on for a while.